


Of Magic and Sword-Drabbles

by DellVanity



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bull is a big puppy, Crossdressing, Drabbles, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Mention of a murder, Most of the inquistion is in this at some point, Precious elf baby, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5227346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DellVanity/pseuds/DellVanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day to day of my m!Lavellan Inquisitor Isaac with Bull and other characters</p><p>Updates whenever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Before The Choice

“Bull?” Isaac called softly from where he lay amongst the sea of fur blankets. Bull spared him a glance, searching for him in the blur of black and white. Isaac rarely spoke after they had finished, much less so long afterwards, and honestly, he was shocked. His little elf rarely spoke in any case of undress, at any time, only speaking when absolutely needed. Lavellan stared over at him with a giant leafy eyes and twitching ears.

“Yeah, boss?” Bull chanced. The elf was sleepy, but forcing himself awake to think on something.

“Why does society force someone to be only good or bad. Why can’t we be both…” Isaac looked over at him, wiggling his arms out of their confines. Bull…. Wasn’t expecting that. Not at all. He was thankful Isaac was too tired to see straight, lest he see the slight shock on Bull’s face. He rarely talked like that, he didn’t like to speak politically or of social standards. The only times he’d spoken up were in subtle defense of the Qun. They’d chatted about this a few times, with Bull mostly talking. He remembered Isaac’s interest in the idea, his affection for the idea of every man having their worth and purpose, no matter how small. From Lavellan’s interest in it, he always assumed the youth to have found himself feeling worthless. And now, the big bad indestructible Inquisitor was questioning his own morality.

“It’s because people don’t want to consider that bad people might exist” Bull started with a shrug; “And that they might be these bad people. Why?”

“...I’ve done sinful things.” Isaac sat up, looking him in the eye, looking for a split second all too small for all his responsibilities.

“Who hasn’t?” Bull gave the elf a chuckle and gently pulled on a lock of raven hair. When his Lavellan looked up at him pitifully, he simply sighed. There was that look again. “everyone does things wrong, even Cassandra has made bad choices.”

“This is not a simple conversation of bad choices, Bull.” Isaac sighed; “...Do you think I'm bad?”

“What? Of course not, Boss.” Bull responded quickly, frowning.

“.... Then am I pure good?” the little elf challenged. Ah, Bull could see where this was going.

“No one is pure good. Not the Divine, not you nor I.”  Bull shook his head and shifted to sit facing the same way as Isaac.

“Then what are we?”

“Well, the two of us are different.”

“But of course.”

“A dalish elf would have a different moral compass than a Qunari mercenary, I would hope.”

“I’m not dalish.” Isaac shook his head. That had the Iron Bull stop in his tracks.

“... You’re not?” He asked casually, trying to make up for the short silence; “Then what are you, my little enigma?”

 “My mother was dalish, but she left her clan to live in a small town.” The elf shrugged, and flinched as his hair pulled at his scalp

“Was she alone or…?” Bull shifted on the bed, lifting his hip to allow Lavellan to pull his hair from underneath the giant. He chuckled as the elf scrambles to pull his hair away before combing his scrawny fingers through it protectively. Iron Bull twiddle a lock of hair between his fingers with a content hum.

"Father left when I was 10.” Isaac murmured after a long, tense moment; “.... I’ve always blamed myself, even though I know it Wasn’t really my fault.”

Bull stopped for a second before returning his attention to the strands of hair between his fingers. “...I-”

“Don’t.” Isaac stopped him, holding up his hand and shook his head; “ I don't need nor want your sorrys.” the little elf stared at him blankly.

“So.” Bull stalled for a moment; “...Why did you want to talk about morality.”

There was a long silence between them that was anything but comfortable. It felt like an entirety that they were silent, for neither of them had the courage to shatter the fragile atmosphere. Bull sighed, and took a chance with a gentle touch to Isaac’s hand.

“....My mother always told me that I was a sinner. She said ‘So long as you sin, you will never be good in the Maker’s eyes.’ “ The elf shook his head as he drew his knees up to rest his chin on them. It almost looked like he was curling into himself, maybe to disappear.

"Everyone ‘sins’, Boss. Even Cassandra and Leliana. It’s not something we can avoid.” Bull wrapped Isaac’s tiny hand in his own.

“Why don’t we just…. not. Why do we try to be good if we know we never can.” Isaac looked up at him. Bull rolled the thought around in his head for a minute. Did he want to drag out this conversation and risk making Isaac feel awful or he could redirect it to something vaguely more pleasant.

“Well…. I don’t try to be good, but I’m pretty great.” The qunari wrapped an arm around his lithe frame and gave him a huge grin. Isaac gave a small, almost nonexistent chuckle as he uncurled against the larger man’s form. Bull looked down at him with the same stupid grin plastered on his face, giving him a small squeeze.

“You really are… You’re the best.” Lavellan hummed, closing his eyes; “Even if you’re a sneaky bastard.” he lets out a wide yawn and laid his head against Bull’s shoulder.

“Oh no i’ve been caught.” Bull chuckles, rubbing Isaac’s side; “Outwitted by the mastermind yet again!” He looks back down again to find the elf had nodded off, smiling slightly. It’s about damn time, the man needed his sleep. The mercenary unwound his arm from the (very comfortable) position it was in, in favor of lifting the tiny Inquisitor up and back into a comfortable laying position. He carefully pulled the man’s hair onto the bed, as Isaac often did himself. it never failed to amaze Bull how long the Inquisitor’s hair was. He’d asked when they’d first gotten together about how it was that long, and all he got was a shrug and a meek answer of “I never cut it”. Apparently, never cutting one’s hair leads it to being longer than Bull was tall.

Yet, the seemingly endless waves of raven black never obstructed the view of Lavellan’s face, whether it was in a long braid, some strange pinned up bun, or just hanging loose. He was thankful of that much. Bull swore he’d never get tired of looking at that face. He’d found something new every single time he’d stared at it. In fact, he’d made the recent discovery of a scar on the Inquisitor’s lip, which the elf said was from a fist fight where he knocked a man’s teeth in. Literally. He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t already witnessed the very same man get into a fist fight with a man while they were in the Hinterlands.

His sweet little elfish Inquisitor. The tiny bird boned mage that throws people across the battlefield like straw dollies while weaving fire through the air. Such powerful little fingers they were, fingers he often found himself touching and being utterly startled every time he finds them so…. fragile. The same fingers that sew souls into barriers and knitted lightning into bones shook when they’d held hands. They shook from exertion and nerves. The same hands that proudly held aloft the Inquisition sword, and now their people.

Bull gently took Isaac’s hand and planted a chaste kiss on the sharply defined knuckles. Isaac once told him that you can tell more about a man from his hands than one would think. He’d then accurately pinpointed what the callouses on his hands were from, mostly his weapon and years of writing reports. One of these days he’ll ask him why he knows so much about hands. Or more accurately, why he seems to love hands so much. Hell, he might even be better off asking why Isaac seemed to love him immediately, rough calloused hands and all.

Behind closed doors, the moment this began, Isaac had been nothing but affectionate and accepting. The man just recently started to show affection more openly, mostly in the form of sitting with Bull and the chargers with his arm laying against Bull’s, or (if he was feeling daring on certain days) over Bull’s. Sometimes, in the field, they’d sit together at camp, Isaac would grab his arm while walking, or Isaac would join him in his tent for the night. Then, one day in the tavern, he’d taken Bull’s hand and inspected it. No, he’d done more than that.

He memorized it. He mapped it out all with the pads of his fingers. Isaac found spots on his hands that he’d come to trace his fingers over. Even in the afterglow of sex, Isaac traced his thin fingers over Bull’s palms, often leaving a fluttering feeling behind as his fingers danced across the surface. Bull wasn’t an eloquent man, not at all, but he often found a flood of words coming to describe this one elf. THe most obvious being “Beautiful” and “breathtaking”, while less obvious ones had to be when he described Isaac as the ocean. That little elf was clear and protective of deep secrets beneath his surface, bobbing and moving like the waves that surrounded the shore they met on. 


	2. Nicknames

"Everyone has nicknames under the Qun"

Turns out everyone has nicknames everywhere, even if Bull never knew it. It was almost unconscious as he labelled the Inquisitor. Almost. It started when he called him rabbit when others were around. He meant well, an affectionate nickname really. It completely slipped his mind that rabbit was considered bad to call a dalish, leading people to stare at them. The ex-Ben-Hassrath forgot because Isaac wasn't dalish, which most people didn't know. It was almost funny... Okay, it was  _really_  hilarious, even to Dorian who had slipped out of the library for some rare social interaction. Bull called Isaac Rabbit. Isaac, completely unaffected by those around him, grinned widely up at Bull. A big dazzling grin with a "yes?". The looks on their faces would have had the merc on the floor with laughter if Isaac wasn't looking directly at him with those big brown eyes. Varric was snickering across the table, his mouth covered by his hand of cards. They were playing Wicked Grace. Dorian was hiding his laughter behind a book, his shoulders shaking as he snickered. 

That was about the time Lavellan started to call him "The Iron Dragon" or just "Dragon". Bull had to admit, he liked it a lot. It got a chuckle from Krem, who normally groaned at any nicknames between them. Neither of them really realized that nicknames would lead to the start of more comfortable moments. Maybe it was because of the two of them laughing when names didn't work, or perhaps the easy moments where "Rabbit" wasn't bad and "Dragon" wasn't silly. Where they'd sit together and just chat, casually throwing nicknames at each other. Isaac receiving the likes of "Rabbit"  "Kitten" and "Kadan" as was standard for him, while Bull received things along the lines of "Dragon" "Bull" or if Isaac was feeling particularly playful "Beast" or "Killer" were thrown into the mix. Under normal circumstances, even the ex-Ben-Hassrath would flinch internally at being called "Killer", but these weren't normal circumstances. No, it was always said with a playful giggle, a touch to the horns, or something  _more_. He'd heard the phrase "Hold your horses there, killer" more times than he ever thought he would. Kadan was normal for them to trade between one another, and in more intimate moments Bull slipped up and called him "Doll" or "Sweetheart". It was sickeningly sweet between them, and somehow he really didn't care if his men saw Isaac call him "Sweetie". It's moments like that that Bull suspects lead them to being comfortable with somethings that would make Cassandra flip a table (he's sure she would). These moments are 100% at fault for Bull just walking in on Isaac's most embarrassing moments. 

They'd gotten into a schedule of sorts. Bull would come up to see his Kadan after lunch and they would laze around until a meeting popped up. They'd lay around in some state of undress, how could they resist the temptation? Sometimes they let their hands roam comfortably and other times they'd get half way through and Isaac or Bull would say some stupid pun and it'd devolve into some half dressed joke contest. But one particular day, Bull had come early, since Isaac had been busy all morning with meetings until just 20 minutes ago. The poor elf was sure to be dressed  _and_ contemplating burning every shoe in Skyhold. He didn't bother knocking as he entered the room, why should he, he'd come many times before? He didn't bother being silent as he tromped up the stairs either. He already had his hands working at his harness to drop it off and roll his shoulder. 

"You won't  _believe_ what I just heard, Kada-aaaaaaaaaand what do we have here, kitten?" he couldn't believe his eyes. Isaac was sitting on the floor, his hair braided but that wasn't out of the norm. No, it was his clothes. His preciously powerful deadly little Inquisitor was wearing a dress. Not just any dress, but a breezy wide green skirted dress with a white top and a dark green sash, no sleeves and a neckline that delved deviously low. 

"B-Bull! I told you to knock before you come in!" Isaac sputtered as he blushed, looking away quickly. His hair was tied with a dark green ribbon.  _How cute_. Bull couldn't help but to admire the sight for a second before he spoke.

"Kadan, I have tied you up, fucked you senseless, and much more, and  _this_ is what you are embarrassed about?" Bull chuckled, crossing his arms as he made his way over to sit beside the elf; "I've made you wear panties before, even if you were slightly reluctant to wear them."

"..... They were  _tiny_." Isaac said quickly in his defense, narrowing his eyes at Bull; "This isn't like that."

"This isn't a kink then? That's good, I don't think this would last long in the bedroom." he rubbed the fabric of the skirt between his two fingers; " 'S really fucking cute though."

"..... It's not a kink.... I've.... Kind of always liked wearing dresses. I feel really comfortable in them." Isaac said dumbly, and rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at Bull's fingers; "....Please don't tell anyone" he said as an afterthought.

"Didn't we establish a rule when we started fucking that anything in this room stays between us?" the mercenary smiled down at him sympathetically; "I'm honestly less interested in getting you riled up at the prospect of everyone knowing you like frilly little dresses and more interested in whether this is an interest or if you feel-"

"I am not transsexual,  _dragon_." Isaac chuckled; "I would have told you if I was, no worries. I'm not hiding anything. I just.... Like how free dresses are, honestly. They make me feel.... pretty. Who doesn't like to feel pretty?" he says happily, stopping when Bull quirks an eyebrow. "....Stupid question, don't say anything."

"I know this is going to sound odd, but how in the world does a sheltered little elf boy learn he loves dresses?" He leans back onto the foot of his Kadan's bed, resting his free hand on Isaac's lap. 

"....Well.... Back when I was 6, my mother used to go out and go shopping and relax all day outside the house while my dad watched my brother and I. One of those days, I got into my mom's clothes apparently. Dad found me running around in mom's old summer dress that didn't fit her anymore. Instead of just making me take it off and go play, he and my brother hemmed it up for me. I'd wear it when mom went out, usually i'd just run around outside like a little maniac and climb trees."

"Ah. I don't see any wrong in that. Probably makes running easier, since there's no fabric to catch." Bull said with a shrug when Isaac stopped; "Though, I can't imagine others would have taken it well."

"They didn't. Another kid saw me and he started to make fun of me one day... I stopped wearing them for a while after that, which my brother and dad noticed. I only really started again when my brother made me a veil like Andraste's and helped me fashion my hair up so I could pretend to be her."

"And that went wrong didn't it?" Bull hummed, closing his eyes as Isaac's hands fluttered up his forearms.

"Yes it fucking did." Isaac spat bitterly with a scoff, putting a  _lot_ of emphasis on the word fucking like it was the most disgusting thing ever. 

"Kids are awful." they said at the same time. Their eyes met and they grinned widely at one another, small hands settling on strong shoulders and strong hands resting happily on thin hips and sleek fabric. They stayed in the comfortable silence for a minute until the tension for to Lavellan and he bursted out into giggles, flopping over onto him. Bull wrapped his arms around him, letting him lay his head on Bull's chest with a content sigh. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Isaac snuggled close as Bull played with a loose strand of black hair. His little kitten, sun kissed golden skin, dappled with freckles of every size almost the same color as his eyes. His kadan that was unstoppable on the battlefield and in the bed, was wearing a pretty green dress. 

"How did you even get that thing?" Bull asked as he slipped his hand under Isaac's skirt to brush his calloused fingers over sensitive thighs; "Surely you didn't buy it."

"Oh no, I bought the fabric and made it." Isaac shivered, shaking his head.

"I'll try not to put all that hard work to waste by ripping it then." Bull said as he pulled Lavellan into his lap.

"I appreciate the sentiment, The Iron Dragon." Isaac chuckled. 


End file.
